


ash kisses

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel is the new guy who moves into the apartment upstairs from Grantaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ash kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my "stairs" square of [cottoncandy bingo](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/).

At first, he's all looming shadows, angry eyes and even angrier bruises colouring his knuckles, one of his cheeks, his eye, transforming his slight furrow of his eyebrows into a scowl.

He stands over Grantaire, arms folded across his chest. Grantaire doesn't know what to expect, and is surprised by the light voice that says, "Do you have a spare cigarette, by any chance?"

Exhaling a puff of smoke, Grantaire reaches into his pocket and pulls his pack out. There's only one left and he holds it up.

"If it's your last…"

"Take it, man," Grantaire says around his cigarette. "I've got more in my apartment."

The guy hesitates a moment longer before he takes the cigarette with a grateful nod. He sits beside Grantaire on the steps that lead to the side-entrance of the apartment complex, murmuring his thanks as Grantaire flicks his lighter open.

"I'm Bahorel," he says on his first exhale. "Nice to meet you."

"Grantaire. Likewise."

«·»

Bahorel, as it turns out, is the new guy upstairs. Grantaire vaguely remembers hearing about someone moving into the apartment on the third floor and he's glad that it's Bahorel because they get along easily. They go to the gym together, they eat together when they're both at home, they go to Grantaire's favourite bar together and one memorable time, they even get into a fight together at said bar, taking on a group of university students harassing two girls. Grantaire quickly learns that starting fights is just as natural to Bahorel as breathing, that he's always a little more agitated than usual on Fridays, because he has to work with a supervisor he hates, that he collects red mugs and likes cats and hasn't finished a book in three years but has a stack of them that he's halfway through that sit beside his sagging couch.

Grantaire and Bahorel become incredibly close over a matter of days and then remain that way, even as they meet each other's friend. Feuilly, Bahorel's best friend— _other best friend_ , Bahorel says without thought one day, and Grantaire doesn't stop thinking about it for a week—is incredibly easy to get along with and sometimes joins them when they go out, sometimes doesn't, but the one thing that Grantaire and Bahorel keep to themselves is their tradition of smoking on the steps at the side of the apartment complex in the afternoon, just like the very first day that they met. Sometimes they talk and sometimes they don't and it's fine either way because all they really need is to be sitting beside each other, shoulders brushing as they inhale, exhale. It's enough for them.

Except about three months after Bahorel first moves in, they're sitting on the stairs smoking and Bahorel reaches out, taking Grantaire's hand into his own. Neither of them let go as they continue smoking but Grantaire squeezes, catching the way Bahorel grins. They let go of each other's hands as they get up, parting ways at Grantaire's door with a nod.

The next day, they reach for each other's hands as they smoke. The day after that, they don't let go until they reach Grantaire's door.

It takes an entire week of doing this before Grantaire feels brave enough to clear his throat at his door and tighten his grip on Bahorel's hand when he'd usually let go.

"You can… come in, if you want. I mean—fuck, you've been over before, why is this so hard."

Bahorel stares at him and in a very serious tone, says, "There's a dirty joke begging to be made there."

"Ugh, just shut up and go in," Grantaire groans, but he's laughing as he opens the door.

Bahorel's hands drop to Grantaire's hips as they turn around to look at each other in the narrow hallway on the other side of Grantaire's door. 

"So, I just want to make sure that we're on the same page here."

Grantaire leans into Bahorel, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I think so."

"Yeah," Bahorel murmurs, turning his face slightly so that he can kiss Grantaire properly. He's grinning as he pulls away. "We definitely are."

The next day when they're sitting on the stairs smoking, Bahorel leans over and kisses Grantaire.

Bahorel tastes of ash, of the wine that they were sharing before, and Grantaire wraps an arm around Bahorel to keep him close, lips parting. They kiss until they're out of breath, panting softly as they pull apart, lips pink and wet.

"I'm glad you moved here and asked for a cigarette that day," Grantaire murmurs and Bahorel grins, pressing another brief kiss to his lips.

"Yeah. Me too."


End file.
